Meet me on the battlefield
by Nagiru
Summary: There is a war brewing, and Ichigo is right in the middle of it. Unfortunately, these type of things tend to hinder relationships from happening.


**Meet me on the battlefield**

 _or "The one where Ichigo still goes through all the shit from canon while still having time to be a teenager with a crush"_

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own Bleach or any of the characters here present. I also don't own the song that I used to name the story (Meet me on the battlefield, by SVRCINA).**

* * *

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Ichigo would like to say it all began when he woke up after the battle with Aizen, battered and bruised, and feeling weaker than _ever_ before, and saw grey eyes staring at him unwaveringly. He'd like to say it was something smooth, that it was gratitude, and the warmth of having _something_ of this life left to him. He'd like to say he was simply enchanted by the attention, by being cared for, for what _must_ have been such a long time.

He'd be lying.

 **. . .**

Perhaps their first meeting wasn't the best — but Ichigo had been living with _Rukia_ for a while, then, and Urahara was… well, despite being a disturbing piece of _mad scientist_ , he also wasn't incorrect to call himself handsome. And, Ichigo _had_ been living with Rukia. Who had been sleeping in his _closet_.

He didn't have _any_ privacy, by then, and he was a goddamn _teenager_ , thank you very much. His libido didn't understand the meaning of _restraint_. And Urahara… he hid well, behind those baggy clothes and looming hat and _annoying fan_ , but he was all sharp edges and cutting smirks, and he exposed so much _skin_.

Ichigo was highly annoyed with the shopkeeper who kept laughing and would say absolutely _nothing_ , even when he talked non-stop, but he wouldn't be opposed to showing his annoyance through activities that didn't actually involve any bleeding.

(Or perhaps, it would. With Urahara's light complexion, he would be absolutely _delectable_ covered in blood. At the very least, some bruising hickeys and bite marks would do him great. And he betted he'd look so _good_ , all disheveled and sweaty, and…)

… So, perhaps Ichigo hadn't really liked Urahara all that much, in their first meeting, but Urahara was such an annoying _bastard_ , he could honestly say it wasn't his fault. Yet, even then, Ichigo knew that, this? This… _pull_ … wasn't even remotely sweet.

Of course, he also thought it was just a spike of libido, he was a teenager after all, and he was still in doubt if he even _liked_ men, really. It would have to go away, soon enough.

Right?

 **.**

Then, he was training with Urahara, and he was a _bastard_ , but he was a good bastard. An _excellent_ bastard, even, because Ichigo was still in pain over the stab to his goddamn heart, but he was never _too_ tired. He was pushed to his limits, and he would ache all over, and he was always ready to crash after their training, but Urahara was… he knew Ichigo's limits better than Ichigo himself, it seemed, because he knew just how much to _push_ , and he always pulled back when Ichigo was almost there, and Ichigo just.

He always loved a good battle, and this was a _terrible_ timing, but he just realized that Urahara — not being an annoying shopkeeper, as he'd previously thought — was _strong_ , besides being scarily smart.

He barely even pulled his Zanpakuto, yet Ichigo was always _losing_ , and it was such a _thrill_ to have a non-lethal challenge that Ichigo just…

 _Ached_. Longed. He _wanted_ , and he wanted so badly it hurt.

Sometimes, in the middle of their sparring, even, which usually went badly for him.

As in: lying on his back, panting up at Urahara's smirk, and trying _very hard_ not to get excited.

He was pretty sure Urahara had noticed, by now, despite his best attempts not to show his… _crush_ , for lack of a better word.

(Sometimes, Urahara would push him from way too close, a hand snapping close around his neck, a line of warmth pressed close to him from chest to thighs, and Ichigo was _sure_ Urahara knew, because there was no other explanation for this kind of fighting. No other explanation whatsoever.)

But he had his _shikai_ to learn, his _bankai_ to aspire to, and Rukia to save, and this was _not the time_ to get a hard-on on Urahara's stupid smirks and strong hands, even though Ichigo was pretty sure he _was_ into men, after all. Especially men who were stronger than him, it seemed.

 **.**

 _(Then he was alone and in peace, at last, even when he knew it would be short-lived, because Aizen was a_ _ **traitor**_ _, and they were all in danger, and._

 _And he needed to release some stress, else he would end up hollowfying_ _ **again**_ _, and then his own family would be in danger, and he didn't want that._

 _So he thought of going for a spar, thought of searching Urahara out…_

 _And then he was leaning back, a hand over his mouth as his other hand worked on his cock, the sight of Urahara's grey eyes piercing into him in his mind, the sound of Urahara's teasing echoing in his ears, the feel of Urahara's body_ _ **pressing him to the ground**_ _, and_ _ **shit, shit**_ _…_

 _He came with a strangled groan that resembled Urahara's name, and Ichigo decided never to call him by name again, lest he start losing himself in public, and it was already bad enough that_ _ **Urahara himself**_ _was aware of Ichigo's traitorous' body, he didn't need all his_ _ **friends**_ _aware of that, as well, thank you very much.)_

 **.**

Then the war was upon them, he was in Hueco Mundo and Orihime was kept prisoner, and Ichigo had to _findherfindherfindher…_

And then Orihime was with them, but he had _died_ , and he _felt it_ , he felt empty, he felt angry, he felt _hollow_ , and he felt so very _alive_ , fire burning in his veins.

The fight went on, and Ichigo fought, and fought, and fought, and he lost, and he won, and he couldn't even say anymore if he was succeeding or not, but his friends were mostly safe — or as safe as one could be in a war —, and everything was okay.

Everything was _fine_.

Except Aizen planned on destroying _Karakura_ , he planned on destroying _his city_ , where his sisters lived, where his father lived, where his body lived, and he had to _stop Aizen_ — and then Goat Face was a Shinigami as well, and Urahara was _there_ , smirking and being a pain in _Aizen's_ ass, and all the _Gotei 13_ were there, and Ichigo started hoping there was a chance.

And everything was _fine_.

(Nothing was fine, nothing would be fine at the end of it, but Ichigo would keep _fighting_ , because this was for his sisters, for his family and friends, and he was willing to sacrifice _anything_ to protect his family. Even if he were sacrificing _himself_.)

 **.**

And when Ichigo fought himself, _found_ himself, all he could remember were grey eyes, steady and understanding as they studied him. As they stared at him, through him, _into_ him, because somehow, Urahara always knew exactly what he was thinking about.

(Somehow, it was always _caused_ by him, he realized as Urahara asked for forgiveness, a bitter feeling clenching deep inside Ichigo's heart.)

When Ichigo fused with his Zanpakuto, when he took Zangetsu and turned it into Mugetsu, he realized he'd never be able to see his friends again. He'd never be able to fight with his friends again. He'd never be able to go to _Urahara_ again.

Perhaps he would overcome his crush, after all.

 **. . .**

Ichigo defeated Aizen, and he thought he'd never wake up.

(Deep down, he'd _wished_ he'd never have to wake up and face a life where he was unable to protect his family and friends, where he once had power and now had nothing.)

And then he _woke up_. He woke up, feeling hollower than when he was a Hollow, hollower than when he _had_ died, and he realized he was alive. He was alive, and he was awake, and he had lost half his soul, after all, and he'd never be able to see _any spirit anymore_.

But he also woke up to familiar grey eyes, and to a familiar feeling in his chest, and he realized he was hollow in a way he'd never been before — but he was still _seeing Urahara_ , right there in front of him, which meant that _Urahara had let him_.

Urahara had done a _gigai_ for him.

Ichigo had never tried to look too deeply into his feelings for the shopkeeper — attraction he could deal with, even when they were embarrassing and left him hard under the man in question when they were sparring, but _feelings_ were hard. Now, however, staring at familiar grey eyes that seemed to bleed _relief_ , all Ichigo could think about was that _Urahara was here for him._

Urahara was here, when he was supposed to have no one, anymore.

And he felt emptier than ever, and he _hurt_ like a bitch, but Urahara's eyes, and the fact he wasn't wearing his hat, and that he seemed _fond_ all piled up, and Ichigo kept thinking — _I've been hard under him, and he's never pushed me away_ , and, _I almost died twice, I might never get this chance again._

And, next thing he knew, he was _hurting even more_ , but his hand was closed around Urahara's wrist, and he was _pulling_ , and then Urahara was draped over him — and Ichigo was kissing into his mouth before he could stop to think if this was because Ichigo caught him by surprise or because he _let_ Ichigo pull him. Before he could lose his courage, overthinking something that should be simple.

Because, in the barest bones, what mattered was that Ichigo _had_ a crush on Urahara, that he _was_ attracted to the goddamn scientist, and that perhaps… perhaps it was _more_ , or at least it had the _potential_ to be more, and Ichigo was too tired of losing things to let this one go.

 **. . .**

Ichigo couldn't say it all started after Aizen.

He could say it didn't _end there._


End file.
